Clinic Duty
by BeliBali
Summary: Chapter 10, The Last Chapter. In the next couple of days, I am going to edit this. Plot: Cameron is attacked in the clinic.HouseCameron
1. Chapter 1

I neither own nor have any rights to any of these characters. This is my first attempt.

There was one thing Dr. Gregory House despised more than clinic duty, and that was forced clinic duty. Dr. Lisa Cuddy, his boss and head hospital administrator, had assigned his extra hours of duty at the Princeton Plains Teaching Hospital Free Public Clinic as punishment for aggravating one of the hospitals major donors.

Secretly, Cuddy had been amused at House's rudeness. The man was an ass and a pain to deal with. She had especially liked it when the man had asked House to write him a prescription for Viagra. House had loudly announced Viagra didn't actually cure impotence; you had to have some erectile function within the last five years for it to work. Cuddy had received a very nasty call from a member of the board within an hour.

Now House was stuck with sixty hours of extra clinic duty as a result. The good thing in it all, thought House as he pushed open the doors to the Clinic and limped in, was that Drs. Cameron and Chase were also forced into extra duty for laughing loudly at House's comments in front of the man, who had been hitting on Cameron. Misery did love company, especially in House's opinion, if the company was Dr. Allison Cameron.

Leaning over the reception desk, House gave the nurse on duty one of his biggest grins and batted it eyes, causing the nurse to quickly back away from him in fear.

'Dr. House,' said the nurse with great trepidation, having worked with House before.

'Has Dr. Cameron arrived?'

'She's in examining room two.'

'Thank you,' smiled House, giving the nurse a wink before turning and disappearing through the examine room door.

'What was that about Libby?' asked Dr. Cuddy as she came through the clinic doors and taken in the look on the nurses' face.

'I have no idea?' answered Libby incredulously 'but he winked at me AND he was nice.'

Dr. Cuddy sighed, shaking her head as she retrieved her file and headed back towards her office. 'Watch yourself, House is up to something.'

Allison Cameron was mid-way through her exam of her patient when House entered the room.

'Cameron,' House stopped and looked at her patient and made a face before declaring, 'yucky pooh ick. Are you actually letting her stick that up your nose?' The small child giggled at House as Cameron finished her exam of the child's ears and turned to its mother.

'It's just an earache, compounded with a slight touch of tonsillitis. In time, I think her tonsils will need to be removed and maybe tubes placed in her ears.'

'Is it that serious?' asked the mother looking in concern at her child and the deranged man with tongue depressors hanging from his upper lip, looking like a walrus making chopping sounds with his mouth.

Cameron kicked House lightly, 'Dr. House, please' before turning to the mother.

'She's fine. It is very common for children your daughter's age to have persistent earaches and to go through this procedure. But, that is only if it remains persistent.' Cameron made a note on her prescription pad and handed it to the mother. 'Give her one in the morning and one at night, and it should clear it right up.'

The mother, grabbing her child, made a hasty retreat from the room as House held the door open for her. Once she was clear, he slammed the door shut and locked it before turning to Cameron with a mischievous grin.

'I believe you promised to keep me entertained today' smiled House as he grabbed Cameron by the waist and pulled her to him. Kissing her lightly on the neck, House ran his tongue just behind Cameron's ear lop causing her to let out a little gasp.

'House quit. We're at work.' Cameron smiled as House's kisses persisted.

'Mmm,' mumbled House in her neck, lost in the scent of her hair and skin. He was getting deeply aroused as he placed little kisses along her jaw.

'They'll hear us,' squeaked Cameron in mock concern as House's lips came into contact with her own.

'Good' He mumbled, before thrusting his tongue in her mouth, kissing her passionately.

He had Cameron pinned against the examine table allowing him to push himself hard up against her. When House drew back for a moment of air, Cameron to hopped up on the corner of the examine table while wrapping her legs around his thighs.

House grinned as he dropped his head, leaving light kisses along Cameron's throat working his way to the top of her blouse. Cameron gave a slight moan as she felt House's hand search for the buttons of her slacks.

'HOUSE,' came the yell at the door, followed by a series of loud bangs. It sounded as if Cuddy were trying to knock the door down with her fist. 'HOUSE GET OUT HERE NOW.'

'Damn' mumbled House in to Cameron's breast.

'HOUSE, NOW'

'You better go,' smiled Cameron, as she rebuttoned her blouse and tried to straighten her clothing. 'And Greg, can you carry this file out for me?' Cameron gave a wink at House's crouch.

'Don't worry,' growled House, 'Cuddy screaming is better than a cold shower.'

Giving Cameron a quick peck on the check, House flew open the examine room door just as Cuddy was getting ready to wrap on it again.

'Gawd Cuddy, we can hear you. You just ruined Cameron beating my high score.' House waved his Gameboy under Cuddy's nose for inference.

'Office, now!' declared Cuddy holding the clinic door open for House to pass through.


	2. Chapter 2

I neither own nor have any right to any of this.

I do thank you for the reviews. They are appreciated. I only hope this pleases you as well, but I warn you, I am adding a twist and a bit of angst.

**The Patient**

Leaning against the reception desk, making final notes in her patience's file, Dr. Cameron smiled to herself as she heard House's loud protest to Cuddy as he followed her into her reception area and into her office.

'Cuuudddyyyyy, I want to go back and play,' he whined loudly. 'Let me go back and play, pplllleeaaassseee? Pretty please? Please, please, please?' Glancing over his shoulder at Cameron, House gave her a mischievous grin and a knowing wink, 'I promise I will be a very good boy, really I do.'

Further protest ended with the closing of Cuddy's door.

'How do you deal with him?' It took Cameron a moment to realize the question was directed at her.

'What do you mean Libby?

'The man is a lunatic. Didn't you actually go out with him or like him or something?'

'Or something,' replied Cameron nonchalantly, before picking up the file for her next patient.

'No really,' persisted Libby, 'how do you put up with him?'

'Libby.' Cameron looked at the nurse squarely in the face. 'let's just say House is an acquired taste. Now, can we get back to work? What do I have?'

'Fine then. Exam four, kid looks like he has the flu.'

'Thank you.' Picking up the file, Cameron entered the room to find a young man sitting on the corner of the examining table. 'What seems to be the problem?' smiled Cameron closing the door behind her.

Cameron knew the moment she saw the boy he was in withdrawal. She had been around House far to long not to know drug addiction when she saw it. His eyes were glazed, sweat was pouring from his body, and there was a slight twitch in his movement. She could tell he was agitated.

_This kid is coming down hard, _thought Cameron as she approached him.

'What seems to be the problem,' she glanced at her chart 'Michael?'

'Migraine' the boy looked at her calculating her reaction. Did she believe him?

'Migraine, right.' Cameron made a note in her file. 'What are you on?' she asked without looking up.

'I have a migraine.' There was belligerence in the boy's voice. 'I just want something for the pain.'

Laying the file on the counter top, Cameron stooped to sit on the rolling stool they kept in the exam rooms. 'Listen, I can tell by looking at you, you are in withdrawal. I can't help you if you don't tell me what you are on. Meth? X? Oxycodone? What?'

Without warning the boy was off the table, fury emanating from him. Before she could stop him, the boy kicked the stool sending Cameron flying into the counter. There was a resounding crack as her head connected with edge of the counter top. Dazed, Cameron became away of two strong hands hoisting her to her feet and slamming her into the wall. Placing his forearm into her throat, the boy pinned Cameron against the wall, choking her in the process. Cameron blinked as a thin line of blood dripped on the lense of her glasses. It all happened so quickly, Cameron was not really registering the position she was suddenly in.

'Listen bitch,' hissed the boy in her face. Even though he was choking her, his breath was nauseating. 'I don't want you to help me. I want you to give me something for the pain. Got it.'

Cameron tried to nod, but couldn't.

Forcing his arm deeper into her throat, the boy screamed into her face, spraying Cameron with spittle. 'Do you understand bitch?'

'What is going on?' The nurse Libby stood in the doorway, her mouth open in shock at the sight before her. Backing away quickly, she began yelling loudly for security.

'Damn!' Releasing his hold on Cameron, the boy attempted to grab the nurse. Realizing she was out of his reach, he turned to Cameron who was kneeling on the floor, gasping for air. Pulling a switchblade from his pocket, the boy grabbed Cameron's ponytail and hauled her to her feet. Wrapping one arm around her body, he again wrapped an arm around her throat. Only this time, the arm at her throat was slightly jabbing a knife into her larynx.

Using Cameron as a shield, the boy stood in the doorway of the exam room surveying the situation.


	3. Chapter 3

I neither own nor have any right to any of this, ever.

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**Discovery**

Lisa Cuddy had not yet settled herself comfortably in her chair to begin her tirade on House and his resent expenditures when the call for security could be heard. Sighing in exasperation, Cuddy dropped the thick manila folder with which she was contemplating hitting House and rose from her desk.

'You. Don't move.'

'What if I have to go tinkle?' asked House giving her his best pout.

'No. Cross you legs and just hold it.' said Cuddy sternly, exiting her office quickly into her reception area.

'Fine then,' mumbled House sticking out his tongue at Cuddy's departing figure. "I'll just sit here till you come back. NOT.' Giving Cuddy a moment to become involved in whatever the security problem was, House amused himself by trying to balance his cane on the end of his finger. Giving it up, he limped to the door and opened it on chaos.

* * *

Standing in the hallway, House watched as patients were being quickly ushered away from the clinic. Security guards ran past, jingling from their equipment strapped to their bodies. The nurse it was too easy for him to freak with, Libby, was standing with Cuddy, tears flowing down her face. It took House a full minute for realization to set in. Something had actually happened in the clinic. It took only two seconds for Cameron's name to scream in his mind. She was still in the clinic. If she was out he would have known, she would have found him.

Limping quickly past Cuddy and the group of guards to try to see through the glass walls of the clinic, House's heart practically leap to his throat as he caught Libby's words.

'She's bleeding and he was strangling her.'

'Who was bleeding?' asked House trying hard to keep the concern from his voice.

'Cameron House,' snapped Cuddy, totally forgetting she had told him to stay in her office.

'Where is she?'

'Who?'

'Cameron?'

'In there!'

'OK, time out, whoa Nelli, and all of that good stuff. There's a guy in there who's not so nice…with Cameron who is bleeding.' House nodded towards the clinic before waving an arm over his head indicating the security guards, '…people with guns and stuff out here. Why not people with guns go in there and take not so nice person away?'

'He'll holding Cameron hostage,' the sound of fear was in Cuddy's voice. 'He has a knife in throat.'

'What does he want in exchange for letting her go?'

'I don't know!' practically shouted Cuddy in his face. 'You interrupted before any of us could go ask. This JUST happened you know.'

Without glancing at another person, and ignoring those who tried to block his way, House stalked to the clinic doors. Without hesitation he pulled the door open and limped into the room.

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**Author's note: **

Sorry this is short. I've been held captive at school.

Don't worry too much… House and Cameron must be reunited, wink, wink.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Notes**

Ignoring the pleading of animals waiting to be fed, laundry reaching to the ceiling and school work from beyond, I cast all things aside to write this chapter for you. I hope you enjoy it. I would also like to take a moment and thank everyone for your reviews. I would have thrown in the towel on the first chapter without your encouragement. CBB.

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**The Rescue**

In the interval between the raise of the alarm and House entering clinic, Allison Cameron had a moment to regain her breath, so to speak. The crack on her head had severely addled her, not to mention it being immediately followed by her being half choked to death. He looked small, but the Idiot Patient, as she had renamed him, had managed to lift her off her feet when he pinned her to the wall. Cameron had little recollection of being yanked to her feet by her pony tail or receiving the narrow cut in her neck which was now soaking the collar of her lab coat in blood. Her head was killing her, feeling as if it were about to split open. It didn't matter she had lost her glasses as she was seeing five and six sets of everything around her. Through the think fog which was rapidly enveloping her mind, Cameron became aware House was near.

The Idiot Patient had yanked her back into the exam room when the other patients had fled from the clinic. Now, as Cameron leaned against the wall trying to regain some focus, the Idiot Patient watched from the half-opened door as House entered the clinic.

* * *

House stood for a moment taking in the empty clinic. He assumed there might be patients in the examining rooms, but he was really uncertain and unconcerned as to if there were or not. He was here for Cameron.

Propping himself up heavily on his cane, giving it his best "I'm a harmless cripple" routine, House drug himself to the reception desk and leaned heavily upon it. Pulling his Vicodin from his pocket, he set it on the counter top.

'You can come out.'

Laying his cane down on the counter top next to the Vicodin, House turned slightly to face exam room four acting as if the movement caused him great pain.

'I can see you're nose sticking out, so why don't you just open the door. As you can plainly see, I am in no shape to jump you or anything.'

The Idiot Patient watched House for a moment, before deciding he was just some old freak the hospital had sent to try to reason with him. Glancing at Cameron, he pushed the door open a little wider with his foot.

'What do you want?'

House smiled to himself, this kid was an idiot.

'Where's Dr. Cameron?' House asked wishing he had a better advantage point of seeing into the exam room.

The Idiot Patient didn't answer.

'Listen,' said House, 'I can help get you out of here, but only if you release the nice doctor you have in there with you.'

'Who are you?'

'Dr. Gregory House. Who are you?'

'You don't need my name, grandpa'

If it had not been for Cameron, House would have picked up his cane and thrashed the kid within an inch of his life, but with great difficulty House managed to control himself.

Giving a little snort of amusement, House shook his head and looked to the floor as if his shoes were one of the most fascinating things he had ever seen. Without moving his head, he looked up at the half-opened door.

'You are sssooo going to get it.'

A snort could be heard from the room as the door opened completely.

'Yeah, right, you and what army, GRAMPS.'

* * *

While the Idiot Patient and House played whatever game they were currently engaged in, Cameron's fog was beginning to lessen. Now rather than six Idiot Patients, there were only three or four of them, which she found encouraging. Tentatively feeling her neck she decided the blade had not gone too deeply; it was just a cut with lots of blood as a result of the idiot's nervousness. Her mind was clearing enough for her to think through the haze she may need a stitch or two in her neck. Running her hand into her hair line, Cameron winced in pain as her fingers felt along a large, wet, spongy knot on her head. There was another sensation Allison Cameron was slowly becoming aware of, she was getting completely and truly pissed off. She was angry with herself for her stupidity with a patient in withdrawal, and she was getting peeved at House and the idiot's game of name calling and idle threats.

* * *

Ideally, House picked up his bottle of Vicodin and shook it.

'Tell you what, you come out and I'll give you some magic little pills here. How does that sound? And sonny, you better speak up, at my age I don't hear so well anymore.'

Grabbing Cameron by the shoulder and shoving her out the door in front of him, the Idiot Patient eyed House, his focus on the bottle of Vicodin. One hand made certain to hold Cameron between him and House, while the other, once again placed the knife close to Cameron's throat.

'Hand it here.'

House let his eyes scan over Cameron's body and relief jumped to his heart. Her throat was already swelling and turning a nasty shade of dark purple which concerned him. The blood on her face and neck were secondary to the huge knot visible at her hairline. House had not doubt Cameron had a concussion, yet he felt as if he could have danced a jig when his eyes met hers. He knew that look. He had experienced that look. He had been in pain for days because of that look. And, it was that look in her eyes which told him Cameron was going to be fine. Without even being aware he had done it aloud, House laughed.

'Dude, you're really in some deep shit here,' laughed House before a glance from Cameron cut him short. 'Let the lady go before you get hurt.'

The Idiot Patient looked at House as if he were insane. 'Pills' demanded the idiot.

Still chucking to himself, House opened his bottle of Vicodin and dry swallowed two.

'Uhhhh,' House thought for a moment, 'No.' He smiled wickedly at the boy, 'they're mine, and you can't have them.'

House ignored the shocked look on the Idiot's face and winked at Cameron. From the hallway he could hear Cuddy calling him a moron, loudly followed by a stream of not-so-nice words and extreme profanity. Even Wilson could be heard yelling at him to stop whatever stupidity he thought he was doing.

The Idiot was so consumed in House and his Vicodin that he forgot Cameron, letting his arm with the knife drop slightly. It was all Cameron needed. Bringing down one of her heeled shoes hard on to the top of the Idiot's foot, Cameron pivoted, drew back her fist and hit the idiot squarely in the nose. Blood erupted across his face, as Cameron brought her knee up, burying it in the boy's groin. With a moan, the Idiot Patient hit the floor.

Reaching out, House pulled Cameron to him and held her close as the room erupted in a flood of people. Wilson was instantly at their side.

'My Gawd,' he exclaimed, excitement burning in his eyes, 'what was THAT?'

'Kick boxing and Tao-Bo classes twice a week' murmured Cameron into House's shoulder. Her head was hurting again, and the room was growing darker.

House felt her pass out. Assisted by Cuddy and Wilson, they gently lifted Cameron on to a stretcher. While Cuddy and Wilson pushed their way through the crowd gathering around the clinic with Cameron in tow, House picked up his cane and watched as the Idiot Patient was being handcuffed and pulled to his feet.

Glancing at the examining room doors, which were beginning to open, House watched in amazement as Robert Chase's head popped out of one of the doors.

'You were in there this entire time?' asked House coldly.

'Yeah,' answered the Australian sheepishly. 'I had to protect my patient you know.'

'But not Cameron?' House said it as a flat statement.

Chase looked away from House in embarrassment. "What happened to him?' he mumbled in the direction of the Idiot Patient.

'Cameron kicked his ass, which is what I should do to you.'

Chase knew better than to respond.

'Go Chase,' nodded House pointing to the Idiot with his cane. 'Check him out, make certain Cameron didn't break too much, and then send his ass to jail.'

Without another word, House turned and made his way from the clinic, his thoughts turning to Cameron.

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**Another Author's Note**

OK. I am really curious as to what you are going to think of this. Please, let me know. I have an idea or two on what should come next, or we can stop here. It is up to you, but to be honest, I am having fun, so….?


	5. Chapter 5

Oh, forget it, I'm adding these chapters whether you like them or not……. I neither own nor have any rights to any of this. Blah, blah, blah. Please give some feed back, as I took a turn again.

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**Thinking**

House stood in the elevator. The door had opened, he had entered, and then he just stood not bothering to punch the buttons. He thought of Cameron, Cuddy, the Idiot Patient, and of Chase, replaying the morning in his head. He had surprised himself at the relief he felt when he realized Cameron was going to be okay. Concussions and cuts could heal; bruises would fade away, but Cameron's overwhelming need to help people would never change. Her need to be nice could have had an outcome which House did not want to consider.

Standing, staring blankly into a void, House could feel his elation of having Cameron safely away from the Idiot Patient slowly being replaced…. he realized he was angry. Angry at Chase for hiding in the exam room, angry at the Idiot for attacking Cameron, and to his horror, he was angry at Cameron for putting herself in a position where harm could come to her. She knows drug addiction he told himself, after all she had been secretly seeing him for the last two and a half months and as much as he would have liked to deny it, he knew he was an addict. _She_ knew she should have asked someone else to join her in the room when she realized the kid was several brick shy of a full load. _She's just too damn trusting_, he thought to himself.

Closing his eyes he tried to remember the scent of her hair and the feel of her skin. Her body pressed hard against his, as she quietly moaned in his ear as his mouth and hands explored her. It was less than two hours since they were making out in the examining room and already he could feel his body ache for a connection to hers. If he thought hard enough, he could feel her touch as she would do something as simple as reach for his arm to gather his attention.

House shut his eyes tighter, willing images and feelings of Cameron to himself. He didn't care which ones they were, erotic moments they had share, Cameron performing simple domestic task such as washing the dishes, or her sleeping quietly. Even an image of Cameron screaming at him in anger was better than the one which would just not escape his mind. The bruised and bloodied Cameron kept knocking all the others away. The Cameron whose hair hung limply, and who walked as if she were a zombie with furious, glazed eyes was screaming in his heart, mind, and soul. The more it screamed, the more he could not push it away, and the angrier he was becoming.

How long he stood there, he really wasn't certain. In fact, it surprised him to discover other people had entered the elevator and the man next to him asking for the second time, 'What floor buddy?' After his mumbled reply, the man had smiled knowingly at him. 'Hospitals are a bitch, aren't they,' he said sadly to House.

House looked at the man for a moment, finally focusing in on his face. 'Yep, they are.'

The doors of the elevator opened, and with a nod to his companion, House stepped onto the floor and headed towards his office.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's note: I neither own nor have any right to any of this…..you know the spill.

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**The Aftermath**

Opening his office door, House found Foreman and Wilson deep into conversation with Cuddy. As he entered, they stopped mid-sentence and looked at him.

'What? Have I grown a second head?' he snapped before sitting down heavily and swinging his leg onto the edge of the desk.

For a moment the others were silent.

'Are you alright?' asked Cuddy in concern.

'Hunky dory,' snapped House grabbing his tennis ball and throwing it in the air. 'Where's Cameron?'

'X-ray' said Foreman grabbing the newspaper crossword puzzle he had been doing from a chair and heading for the door. 'I'll see how she's doing.'

'She came to in the elevator,' Wilson gave House a weak smile. 'She asked for you, which is strange, but I guess a good sign.'

'Why is that strange?' accusation echoed in House's voice as he caught the ball mid-air and held it as he stared at Wilson.

'I just thought it was,' said Wilson weakly. 'I think I'll go check on my patients. Someone call me and let me know how Cameron is.'

'Fine.' Cuddy watched Wilson make his escape from the room before turning to House.

'What was that about?'

'I have no idea what you're talking about Cuddy. How many stitches did Cameron need?'

'Six.' Cuddy stood for a moment looking at House wondering where his sarcasm had gone and why he was putting off some serious anger vibes. 'You know you did a pretty brave thing down there.'

House just grunted as he continued to toss the ball in the air.

'In fact, it was so monumentally stupid, that I will let you off clinic for the rest of the day.'

Again, House only grunted, concentrating on the ball allowing an uncomfortable silent to settle across the room, broken only by the reappearance of Foreman.

'She broke her hand on that guy's face,' laughed Foreman, holding up the x-ray. 'I thought she might like this. Our little Cameron, kick boxer and Tao-Bo champion.' He smiled broadly at Cuddy.

'What about her throat?'

'Bruises only. She's going to be serious soar for a while, but we were lucky. With that amount of pressure to cause that amount of bruising, he could have easily have crushed her windpipe.'

Foreman and Cuddy turned from their conversation to face House as he caught the ball he had just thrown hard against the wall. There was an odd expression on his face and light danced in his eyes. Pulling back his arm, he threw the ball hard against the ball.

'What's with him?' whispered Foreman to Cuddy

'Who knows? Do we have anything about the scalp wound and that knot?'

'Mild concussion, a screaming headache and three more stitches.'

Cuddy nodded her head, thinking to herself for a moment. 'What do you think, admit her?'

Foreman shook his head. 'Na, as long as someone stays with her, she can go home, but she needs someone there who knows what to look for incase she has a bleed or something we didn't see.'

'I'll sit with her.' Chase had entered the room while the two were talking and had stood quietly listening.

'NO, You Will Not!' House placed heavy accents on each word, lacing them with venom, as he laid the ball on his desk and stared at Chase. 'The last time something happened to Cameron, you took advantage of the situation. Remember.'

Grabbing his cane, he rose and snatched the x-ray from Foreman. 'Where is she?'

'Their setting her hand,' stammered Foreman, uncertain what to do or why House wanted to know.

'Great.' Gathering up his bag and throwing it over his shoulder, House headed for the door.

'What are you doing?' asked Cuddy with trepidation.

'I 'm going to take Cameron home and then I am going to sit with her if you really think you must know.' Without looking back he pulled open the door and made his way down the hall.

'Why's he in such a mood?' asked Chase, glad House was leaving.

'I've no idea?' shrugged Cuddy. 'But at least we know someone is with Cameron and as bad of a mood as he is suddenly in, I can honestly say it is better for everyone to get him out of here. Now, Chase, what did Cameron do to that kid?'

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Author's note: I guess what's next is…House takes Cameron home. 


	7. Chapter 7

I neither own nor have any right to any of this.

Sorry about the typing on this one, I had to borrow someone's laptop. Its ancient, slow, and some of the keys stick. Please bare with me, and forgive me for typos and missing words. Plus there is some wording, which I vacillated on, but I think it worked. Hopefully the sensors will not come after me and shut me off. Only two/three words…won't happen again!

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**Home Coming**

The short drive from the hospital to House's brownstone had been an excruciatingly long one in Cameron's opinion. House had helped her into _her _car as he had ridden his motorcycle to work that day. Although he had gently helped her into the passenger seat and spent several moments carefully arranging the seat belt so it did not lay in its usual characteristic position near her throat, (one of the disadvantages of being on the short side,) there was something forced about his actions. Once settled into the car, House had spent a few moments grumbling with the driver seat, adjusting its length to fit his long body.

Cameron had let her head loll against the headrest, shutting her eyes. The stitches burned, her throat was raw and swollen to the point her voice came out as a hoarse, gravely whisper, and her broken hand throbbed almost as badly as her head. Every speed bump and pothole in the roadway sent stabs of pain through her aching body. Cameron wondered if House was making a point the veer and maneuver the car so they would bounce over every one of them. The extent of their limited conversation on the short trip had consisted of, 'we need things from the market; will you be alright for a moment? What flavor of ice-cream do you want?'

Arriving home had not been much better. House had helped Cameron out of the car and into the brownstone. Once they crossed the threshold, he released his steadying hold, leaving her on her own to make her way to the bedroom while he retrieved the items he had purchased from the store. Now groping her way along the hallway, Cameron mentally swore to herself. She could not walk in a straight line, but rather kept veering to her left, forcing her to use furniture and the walls for support. Leaning against the bedroom door frame for support, she tried to focus on the bed, judging the distance she needed to cover.

The smell of sweat and sex still hung in the air from earlier that morning, making vile rise into her already raw throat. Cameron had asked House that morning to change the sheets after she had rushed hurriedly from his arms to dress for work, mildly scolding him for making her late. He was as versatile as a lover as he was in his demeanor. Whether they were engaged in rough, furious sex, groping for each other's bodies, or gentle lovemaking, House was always extremely attentive to her and her needs. This had surprised Cameron repeatedly; she had expected him to be selfish in bed. '_If House would only change the sheets_,' she thought, swallowing down her nausea and turning to grope her way back to the living room.

Collapsing on the couch, Cameron could hear the slamming of cabinet doors and the clinking of cutlery.

'I thought you were going to lie down?' House was standing in the kitchen doorway with a bowl of ice-cream in his hand.

Cameron tried to turn her head to look at him, but the movement pulled at her stitches, sending a searing sensation through her body. 'Sheets, smell' she tried to croak, wishing she hadn't. She could feel her brain slouching around in her skull from the concussion.

House glanced towards the bedroom, but did not speak. Crossing to the sofa, he set the ice-cream on the coffee table in front of Cameron before disappearing in to the bedroom. Cameron, ignoring the ice-cream, leaned back into the sofa and closed her eyes, letting her mind wonder. 'He's acting strangely', she though as she drifted into semi-consciousness.

* * *

'Cameron?'

'Cameron?' There was a long pause. 'Allison wake up!'

Cameron opened her eyes and stared unseeingly into a nothing. Blinking for a moment, House's bright blue eyes came into view. Concern was etched into his face.

'I've been trying to wake you up. I was on the verge of calling an ambulance.'

Cameron tried to smile at him, but the act pulled at the muscles and the cut in her neck. Forgetting her hand was broken, she lifted it to rub throat, wincing in pain. Cameron watched as House, letting out a huff of frustration, rose from the couch and limped across the room.

'What?' she asked, her voice a mere whisper.

'Nothing' he snarked back at her.

'Liar'

'Everything then.'

'Why?' Even one and two syllable words hurt. _Damn that idiot patient_, thought Cameron, _damn him_.

'Why, you ask?' House let out a little laugh filled with rage. 'Why?' He voice rose in anger and agitation. He was practically snarling his words at her.

'Let's see. You being all miss goody, friendly, oooh I can solve anything by helping you. I am sssooo caring and sssooo understanding and sssoooo nice and ssssoooooo wanting to help, could have gotten you killed this morning. YOU KNOW BETTER THAN THAT ALLISON. Now look at you! You haven't even taken your coat off. WHY? Because you can't unbutton it! WHY? You HAD to break your hand on some asshole's face! WHY? Because you put yourself in a bad situation. WHY! BECAUSE YOU WERE TRYING TO BE NICE AND WARM AND TRUSTING!'

House was aware he was screaming at her. Sarcasm dripping off his words. He was trying to hurt her. He wanted to hurt her. _'Maybe,'_ he told himself, _'maybe if I scream loud enough, she will finally understand that being nice and trusting causes pain.'_

'NOW WHAT ALLISON. YOU TELL ME, DOC'TOR CAM'ER'ON, HAVE YOU FINALLY LEARNED YOUR LESSON?'

House looked at the battered woman sitting on his sofa, his breath coming heavy from the adrenaline rushing through his body. Their eyes met and he mentally kicked himself for his cruelty. _'Shit, damn FUCK Gregory, you are the biggest fool and asshole to draw breath.' _

It was Cameron who looked away first. There was more pain in her eyes from his tirade than there ever could have been from the physical harm the Idiot Patient had inflicted on her. The physical would heal and heal rapidly; the emotional shredding of her soul was going to linger.

With a great effort, and with an elegance that took House's breath away, Cameron rose from the sofa. She slowly and carefully crossed the room to where he was standing, large tears were running down her face. Standing directly in front of him, ignoring the ripping of the stitches along her throat and the screaming of the injured tissue, Cameron looked up into his face. She placed her small broken hand on his chest, which he immediately covered with his own. (He could feel the agony he had caused her and hated himself for it.) Staring directly into his eyes, Cameron made certain she had his complete attention. The world had stopped as far either one of them were concerned. With a great effort, Cameron forced herself to speak as loudly and clearly as her injuries would allow her.

'Fuck you!'

Pulling her hand away from his grasp, Cameron turned and moved towards the entrance to House's apartment, trying to escape him. She took four faltering steps away from him, before the nausea and the blackness overtook her. Cameron never felt the edge of the coffee table as she fell, knocking the bowl of melted ice-cream into the air. She didn't hear House scream her name as he moved to try to catch her and break her fall. Cameron welcomed the blackness as it swept over her, pushing the physical pain away. Pushing the mental pain away. Pushing House away.

* * *

**PLEASE, please, please tell me what you think! PLEASE… Ineed to know! PLEASE! Have I gone too far with this?**


	8. Chapter 8

I neither own nor have any right to this.

_Italics: Cameron's inner thoughts._

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****Dreams**

'Come on Ally. I dare you.'

Her husband smiled at her. With the back of his hand he wiped sweat from him forehead, pushing aside the strands of light brown hair falling into his eyes. He was crouched, bouncing on the toes of his feet, grinning; daring her to take the ball from him as he bounced it between his legs. Cameron loved when he looked this way: hot, sweaty, young and virile.

'Come on Ally,' he teased 'I know you want to. Just try to get it.' He laughed as he dribbled the ball around her, staying near enough to tease. 'Come on,' he chided, 'get the ball and I'll the clean the bathroom for a week.'

Cameron laughed, watching her husband. 'You will huh? Fine.' With a swift move she lunged, trying to snatch the ball away.

'You missed, you missed. Yes. Told ya Ally. I am King of the Dribble.'

Cameron watched the ball bounce, calculating the right moment. She glanced up into her husband's large brown eyes, noting the mischief shining through them. She leapt, grabbing for the ball.

'You're not even trying.' He bounced behind her, swishing the ball from arm to arm. 'Tell ya'wha, you get the ball, I'll do all the laundry for a month and clean the bathroom.' He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows at her. 'Ready?'

'I have a head ache. I don't want to play anymore.' The sun was bright and falling across her face. Raising her hand, she tried to block out some of the light.

'Did you hear me?'

Cameron turned to her husband. He wasn't smiling anymore and there was concern etched into his face.

'Allison, did you hear me?'

She smiled at him. He was so young and handsome, the ravages of the tumor not showing as of yet. He stood looking at her, with the ball tucked under his arm.

'I have to go to the hospital.'

Cameron blinked, '_No! You're still healthy. It isn't time yet. You don't get ill till later. We still have time!.'_

Her husband moved in front of her, blocking the sun from her face. Setting down his helmet, he took her hand in his. '_What happened to the ball?' _

'The ogre is making me come to the clinic, but I won't be long.' With his free hand, her husband gently ran his fingers through her hair.

'How long?' She didn't want him to go, the last time he went, he never returned.

' 'couple of hours, maybe. Will you be alright on your own?'

Cameron looked deep into his blue eyes and frowned. _'Brown, her husband's eyes were brown. Why are they blue?'_

'Do you want me to call Jimmy?'

'You mean Joe.' Cameron spoke in a whisper. Her throat hurt and her head was throbbing.

'Who's Joe?' There was consternation in his voice; the fingers stroking her hair hesitating for a moment. _What do you mean who's Joe? He's your best friend, and I love him. I held on to him while you were dying. _'If you want a female presence, I could probably blackmail Cuddy into staying with you.'

Cameron didn't answer. Her husband smiled encouragingly at her, his fingers resuming their gentle stroking of her hair. 'Just stay in bed, and I'll be back as soon as I can.' Leaning down, he tenderly kissed her before whispering. 'Now you're awake, did you notice I changed the sheets?'

'You need to shave,' mumbled Cameron. _She always loved how smooth, young, and firm her husband's skin was. He smelled different too._

'Shave?' He blinked in surprise. 'I guess I can if you really wanted me to? Huh, wasn't expecting that one.'

Picking up his helmet for his motorcycle (_where did that damn ball go and when did you start riding a motorcycle?)_ he moved to leave, but Cameron stayed him holding tightly to his hand. 'Don't. Please?'

Gently, he disconnected himself from her, 'I'll just run in, make an excuse and be right back. You aren't even going to know I'm gone.'

_Know you're gone? How do I NOT know you're gone! Do you know how much I miss you? How much I still need you?_

He leaned in to kiss her again, but she stopped him before he could. She searched his eyes which were questioning her. 'Do you know how lonely I've been since you died?'

A first he looked shocked, and then a deep sadness fell over his face. 'Yes Allison…I know.' Bending closer he brushed his lips against her ear before whispering, 'I love you.'

Pulling back, he quickly rose, leaving her. Without his form blocking the light, the sun once again shone brightly on her face, hurting her eyes. Pulling the blanket over her head, Cameron blocked out the light.

* * *

Note:

Question: Does anyone know what the husband's name actually is? Some how I almost think it was Matthew, maybe? Really don't know.


	9. Chapter 9

I neither own nor have any rights to any of this. It's not mine; it's just oozing out of me.

**

* * *

****Regret**

Gregory House backed away from the bed. He felt stunned. His breath coming in short, ragged gasp as he backed into the bureau, knocking items to the floor. He realized he was shaking uncontrollably.

'For Gawd sakes Greg, pull it together,' he mumbled, his eyes fixated on woman before him. House watched as Cameron wiggled deeper in the bed, pulling the covers over her head to block the morning sun streaming through the open blinds. She could not have planned a more flawless revenge for his outburst the previous evening even if she had tried. The fact she would never know how much she had just shook him made it, in his opinion, the perfect poetic justice.

'Damn that boy,' thought House, 'I'm about to have apoplexy over her dead husband.'

Somehow he could never bring himself to think of Cameron's husband as anything other than a boy. Which in reality was what he was; just a boy who had played at being a man. He would always be the boy who managed to be a husband, but never had the chance to become a man or a father. House had seen pictures of him; in fact, the first real fight they had as a couple was because of the boy husband. They had been in Cameron's apartment and it was to be the first time they were to make love in her bed. They had made love several times in her apartment, but before neither had waited to reach the bedroom. They had christened every room and practically every surface which they found would support their combined weight, with the exception of her actual bed. Once, they had almost made it, but had ended up in a heap on the floor suffering from rug burns.

House remembered his eagerness that night. Cameron had tried to make it special by filling the room with candles and romantic music. She had even relented and agreed to wear a very enticing piece of lingerie he had special ordered for her. House's passion for Cameron was unboundless until, sitting on the night stand where he could not ignore it, he saw the photograph of her boy husband. The boy was grinning in the lop-sided fashion he had of smiling, looking as if he were saying, 'Yeah old man, Go for it. Go ahead and screw my wife's brains out with me watching. I dare you to.' House had tried to knock the photo into the floor. That failing, he had eventually resorted to picking it up and shoving it under the bed. It would have been perfect if Cameron hadn't caught him. Her fury, he soon discovered, held no limits when it came to her dead, boy husband.

Leaning on the bureau for support, chastising himself for his reaction, House wondered if he would ever be able to compete with Cameron's ghost. He understood Cameron's attitude towards Stacy, she was a part of him Cameron would never know. A young, energetic House who loved to box, row, and play golf. Stacy knew the House who had been full of life and spirit, not someone who was damaged. Cameron's House was literally a different man than the one who had loved Stacy. For this House suspected Cameron hated Stacy as much as he hated Cameron's dead husband. But, Stacy was alive and someone both he and Cameron could openly battle. There was still time for him. He and Cameron could have memories to share and a life of their own. They could have a life together, have children, or even marry. He was not the same man, but he was a man who was still breathing and very much alive.

House had to contend with the idealized memories of a ghost. A dead husband who would be forever young, and would always be adored by his living wife. The dead husband, the boy, would never change. House would never truly be able to battle him for Cameron's heart. Yes, House knew Cameron loved him, but she still loved the memory of her husband more.

'Though lovers be lost, love shall not; for death shall hold no dominion,' whispered House, resigning himself to his fate. Tearing his eyes from the bed, he limped to the window, closing the blinds. With a last look at Cameron, he quietly pulled close the bedroom door, leaving Cameron to her dreams.

* * *

I must do school work, I must not play this game. I must do school work, I must not play, I MUST DO SCHOOL WORK..AAAUUUUGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH! I CANNOT PLAY! 


	10. Chapter 10

I neither own nor have any right to any of this. I am just using it to amuse myself and others.

**

* * *

**

**A Change.**

True to his word, House was in, almost, and out, most definitely, of the hospital as quickly as he could go. It was not; however, quick enough for Foreman who had the misfortune of encountering House's taxi as it arrived.

'How's Cameron?' Foreman asked casually as he watched House pay the driver and retrieve his motorcycle helmet from the seat. 'I called her apartment last night, but no one answered.'

'That's because no one was in her apartment.' snipped House as he limped towards his motorcycle, motioning Foreman to follow. He stopped at the bike and began checking it for damage after its overnight stay at the hospital, while Foreman looked on in a bored manner. 'Aren't you supposed to be a neurologist or something?'

'You know I'm a neurologist House, get to your point. I have other things to do than to watch you.'

House stood and glared at Foreman, making him squirm.

'If you're actually a neurologist and you didn't just get your degree from back of a cereal box because it had big words and looked pretty, you might have realized Cameron has a Grade 2 concussion. That's grade two, not one. You know. It's the number that is between one and three. You do know how to count don't you?

Foreman's eyes grew wide as he looked at House. 'Grade 2? No way, she has a sever Grade 1 at the most.'

House stared at Foreman as if he were a particularly dense child.

'Oohhh, let's examine this, shall we? She doesn't walk straight because her equilibrium is crap and she has extreme sensitivity to light. If you would have paid attention and actually, I don't know, read the results of the CT and the MRI, you might have realized this if you would have made the correct diagnosis. Then again, maybe it's just me, or her, who thinks a neurologist should know something about concussions. I'll have to ask her over lunch, but hey, there's probably this entire nausea thing happening which will prevent lunch. To be honest, I can't really tell because of that passing out cold thing she keeps doing.' House rolled his eyes in exasperation to make his point.

Foreman stood looking at House in shock. 'Are you sure?'

House swung his leg over his motorcycle, kicking it off its stand. 'Am I sure? Duh? Yeah, Foreman, I'm sure. Little Greggy does _his_ homework.'

'Noticed any signs of brain damage?' asked Foreman, apprehension welling up in him.

'None. Unless of course you count thinking I am a dead man is a sign of a problem.' Turning the key on the bike, House started its engine.

'What about memory? Is she suffering from any memory loss?' Foreman stepped back as House began to roll the motorcycle away from the curb.

'Only if I am really, insanely lucky,' quipped House.

Foreman looked at him quizzically before replying, 'Aren't you coming in?'

House started to put on his helmet.

'Nope. I have errors. Plus, you're going to go tell Cuddy what a monumental misdiagnosis you've made and that I am going to sue you for malpractice. You are also going to tell Cuddy you are covering both my and Cameron's clinic hours until she is feeling better. If there is a major case, you can call me. Otherwise, I think someone needs to be with Cameron, don't you?'

'Yeah, but we should probably admit her.'

House squinted at Foreman. 'Why? She can sleep just as well in our bed as she can here.' Pushing his helmet in place, House revved the engine of the motorcycle ignoring shouts from Foreman.

'Did you just say _our bed_?'

'Sorry, can't hear you,' mouthed House before pulling away from the curb and heading for home.

Foreman stood stunned as he watched House disappear through the parking lot 'Did he say_ our bed_?'

* * *

When House arrived home after making one or two quick stops on his way, he discovered Cameron was still sleeping peacefully. 'Good,' he thought, 'she needs the rest and sleep will give her body time to heal. Plus, it will give me time to prepare.' Satisfying himself Cameron's pulse and breathing were normal, he fled from the room as the doorbell began to buzz.

'Dr. Gregory House?' asked the florist waiting on the stoop.

'Yes.' House grinned broadly at the large arrangement of flowers, 'yeah bring them right in.' He ushered the man into the living room and showed him where to place the flowers.

'Do you want all of them in here?' asked the florist heading back towards the door.

'Yeah, that's fine,' called House already dismissing the florist presence. 'Just put them anywhere.'

After the man had finished depositing the floral arrangements, House stood examining the room. 'It looks like the botanical gardens,' he mumbled to himself looking at one of the card from the nearest arrangement. 'Get well soon, Love, James.' House glared at the card. 'Love, James? Love?' He glanced at it again, making certain he were reading it correctly. Discovering he was, House ripped the card to pieces, throwing it into the trash. 'Love my ass. Just wait till I get my hands on you Jimmy.' Quickly, he then rushed around the room removing any cards he could locate, and rearranging the flowers in a more pleasing manner, or at least more pleasing in his opinion.

Once he was finished, House gave another quick look around the room. 'One down, three to go.' Grabbing his bag from its spot inside to the door, he limped down the hall.

* * *

Cameron awoke to the sounds of a piano. She could tell it was late at night, and wondered how long she had been sleeping. She tried to stretch and then winced, as her various aches and pains reminded her of the incident which had occurred with the Idiot Patient.

Lying back in the bed, Cameron mentally assessed her wounds. It would take weeks for her hand to heal, but already it, like her throat and head, were feeling much, much better. She didn't feel as light-headed and dizzy as she had before, but, she told herself, she wasn't actually out of bed. She listened to the music. It was Beethoven's _Moonlight Sonata,_ one of her favorite works.

Unfortunately, the sound of the music instantly brought House to mind, followed rapidly by a flood of anger. How dare him, she thought. She knew he was worried, and that he hated to feel anything really emotional, but it still did not give him the right to scream at her in the way he did. Cameron knew she had scared him. She knew the moment he played knight errant, running, at least his version of running, into the clinic. It was sweet, and loving, and totally unlike him. She wondered if he realized it put his feelings for her on display for all to see. She understood why he had screamed and acted like a total ass, but it still hurt her, deeply.

Rolling over, Cameron reached tentatively for the light, being careful not to pull her body or move her head quickly. She was feeling a lot better, and she really needed to go to the bathroom. As she reached, Cameron's hand hit something, knocking it off the nightstand as she switched on the light. Carefully swinging her legs out of bed, Cameron stood and carefully retrieved the fallen item. It was her husband. In fact it was the picture she kept beside of her bed, the one she talked to when she felt lonely or when she missed him. What was it doing here?

Cameron cast her eyes around the room. House's bedroom was always so masculine. She had tried to add a few feminine touches to it here and there, but each time she did, he would having a screaming fit. Cameron rubbed her head lightly. 'I must still be seeing things,' she thought. The room had been transformed. The furniture was the same, as were the carpeting and curtains, but now there were little things which were different around the room. Her things were around the room. Items from her apartment were neatly mingled with House's. The doll porcelain doll her grandaunt had given her when she was a very small child rested neatly near antique boxing gloves. A broken bookcase filled with playboys and movies was gone. In its place was her dressing table from her apartment. The entire room looked and felt different. As Cameron tried to take it all in, she had to admit, it _really _looked nice. Her things blended with House's perfectly.

Cameron found she could not ignore her bladder any longer and rushed to the bathroom, pleasantly pleased she could again walk in a straight line. Her head still hurt, but at least now it was a dull throb. After relieving herself, Cameron was again shocked. There was a new floral shower curtain hanging across the tub, with a matching bath set on the floor. Holding her breath, she opened the small linen closet next to the sink and looked inside. The sight caused her to nearly faint. Tampons! It had tampons, make-up, and other female items House despised sitting neatly on the shelf. Pulling back the shower curtain, Cameron discovered her brand of shampoo and favorite soap, sitting next to the one's House liked to use. Flabbergasted and dazed Cameron blinked. 'I'm in the Twilight Zone.'

Daring to see what else had occurred while she was sleeping, Cameron made her way from the bedroom towards the sound of the piano. Chopin. She loved when he played Chopin.

The sight which met her eyes astounded her. Cameron stood, one hand resting on the back of the sofa for support, with her mouth hanging open in astonishment.

House stopped playing the piano and turned to grin at her.

'I see you're awake. How do you feel?'

Cameron, eyes wide, just looked at him, unable to speak.

'What?' House glanced around the room. 'Is it all the flowers, or your things I had brought over? I dared Jimmy and the gang to wake you.'

'Neither,' Cameron managed to croak, her throat still painful and dry.

Fearing she was about the faint and fall again, House rushed to her side and gently led her around the sofa. As they both sat, Cameron turned to House. Reaching up her hand, she gently ran it down the side of his face.

'Careful,' smiled House, his blue eyes twinkling, 'I have severe razor burn. Not to mention I cut myself about thirty times. I kept yelping and was afraid I would wake you up from the cussing.'

'I have never seen you shaven,' was all Cameron found she could utter. Her throat was really dry.

'It was your idea,' smiled House. 'Actually, I think I kind of like it. I can't promise I will manage it all the time, but I will try.' He ran his hand through his hair. 'I'll have to get a haircut too, just to show off the new me.'

'The new you?' asked Cameron staring at his face. She couldn't help it, she had to keep feeling how soft and smooth his skin felt. How much younger he looked without the stubble.

'Well, I can't have my kids saying 'you see that old guy who looks like a bum, that one is my dad.''

'Your kids?'

'Our kids.'

Cameron gasped her eyes about to bug out of her head. 'Do you know something I don't know? Did they run a pregnancy test on me?'

House laughed loudly before leaning forward and gently kissing her. 'No Allison, you're not pregnant, at least not yet. We can try though, as soon as you are feeling better.'

It took a moment for his words to sink in. Cameron tore her eyes away from House and looked around the room. The flowers were beautiful, and like the bedroom, her things were nicely merged with his.

'Now I know I am in the Twilight Zone.'

House laughed loudly again, and took her hand in his own. 'Allison Cameron. In the last three days you have scared me to death, reminded me where I stand in regards to your former husband, which may I add, I plan on doing something about, and have shown me just how deeply I love you. While you have been asleep for the last thirty-eight hours, I have transformed myself and my home for you. I want you to love me as much as I love you.' House raised his arm to indicate the room. 'Get used to it. I can have it all hauled back tomorrow, or we can move the rest in. What do you think?' The look of hope in his eyes was unmistakable.

'Greg, I just woke up from a battering and a concussion…I'm also in shock.'

'Okay,' Cameron could hear disappointment in his voice. 'I'm not going to rush you. When you feel better and you have had time to think clearly; you can make your decision whether you want to marry me or not.'

'Marry you?'

'Yes Allison, marry me.'

Cameron looked into his eyes; she could see he really meant it. 'Yes Greg, I'll marry you, but do we have to keep all these flowers in the house. I like them, and they are pretty, but I have allergies.'

His face spreading in a huge grin, House leaned in and kissed her. 'I'll ditch the flowers, if you will let me set the other hubby someplace except next to the bed.'

Cameron pulled away from him, a frown forming on her face. 'Why?'

'A picture of your first husband is a bit of a killjoy when trying to make love your wife,' answered House honestly, 'that's why I shoved him under the bed that night. I looked at him and lost my… you know,' he looked away in embarrassment.

'I can't throw him away Greg; he is a part of me.'

'I know that. I can accept that too. But, can't we set him someplace other than in the bedroom and beside of the bed? I could dig up a picture of Stacy and we can build a shrine just for the two of them.' House took Cameron's hand in his, stroking it gently. 'Allison, if this is going to work, you are going to have to choose between the living and the dead.'

Tears welled into her eyes, as Allison looked at him. 'I love you Greg, and I want marry you.'

There was a long whistle as House let out his breath. He wasn't even aware he was holding it. 'The moment you feel better, we're getting married,' he leaned forward and tenderly and passionately kissed her.

'Allison?' House asked, pulling back 'how do you feel exactly?'

'Greg, I literally have a headache.'

House laughed. His enjoy flooding out of him.

'I really want a bath too.'

House stood, holding his hand out to her. 'I'll run you one. Maybe, I can even join you?'

Cameron smiled as she allowed him to help her to her feet. 'Only if you bring me a bowl of ice-cream and something very cold to drink.'

Finis

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Author's note.

That's it. My very first House fic. Sorry its not my best, I wrote it in a hurry.


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